Impromptu
by musicprincess1990
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy was not an impulsive person. Every decision he made was carefully calculated, the pros and cons meticulously weighed. Then why, in a split second, did he save the life of his sworn enemy, namely Rose Weasley? Please read and review!


**Chapter 1: Dive**

The first Quidditch match of the year: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. Naturally, the whole school was packed into the stands, cheering boisterously. Scorpius tuned them out, though; he didn't need the distraction. As Seeker and captain of the Slytherin team, he had to stay focused on the task at hand, and _win the bloody match_.

He kept a carefully disinterested expression on his face as he shook hands with Albus Potter, the Gryffindor team's captain and star Chaser. (It had been a surprise to all when he didn't follow in his father and grandfather's footsteps and become the star _Seeker_, but it soon became obvious that he much preferred the Quaffle, and excelled as a Chaser.)

However, as Scorpius and his teammates, and also the opposing team members, took their positions, he glanced across the pitch, and met the gaze of the Seeker, one Rose Weasley. The very existence of said Weasley made his skin crawl. She was infuriating. The two had been Quidditch rivals since they were both named Seekers in their third year. So far, they were neck and neck in skill, having a tied number of matches won against each other—two and two. This match would be the tie-breaker. And by Merlin, he would catch that damn Snitch if it was the last thing he did.

Professor Wood stood at the center of the pitch, shouting his usual nonsense about having a clean match. It was rather pointless, really. No one had dared cheat in a single match since his appointment to flying instructor three years ago. Scorpius guessed it was just a habit.

His attention was diverted by a tiny, glittering sphere, which fluttered between him and his enemy. They both watched, hungrily, as it zipped about their heads, before vanishing somewhere in the great space around them. After that, the Bludgers and Quaffle were released, and thus, the match commenced.

Scorpius began his traditional circle about the pitch, high above the rest of the team, though close enough to hear second-year Benny Finnegan's commentating.

"Gryffindor takes the Quaffle! Potter passes to Weasley, back to Potter, to Weasley, to Thomas, to Henry, to Potter—and he scores!" Everyone but the Slytherins burst into mad applause. "That's your Gryffindor captain, ladies and gents! Albus Severus Potter, and a fine bloke he is!"

"No favoritism, Finnegan!" Headmistress McGonagall shouted, while Albus shook a fist in his direction and yelled, "I told you not to use the name!"

The match drug on, the teams evenly matched in skill and speed. When Gryffindor scored, Slytherin wouldn't be far behind. Gryffindor lost a Chaser to a Bludger—Fiona Henry—and Slytherin lost its Keeper—Niki Zabini. After an hour and a half, tied sixty to sixty, it seemed the game would never end.

Then Scorpius spotted the Snitch.

Immediately, he zoomed toward it with impossible speed, no more than a blur of forest green to the spectators. Rose soon followed, coming alongside him, her face twisted into a look of extreme concentration. Scorpius barely spared her a glance, his own focus bent on the Snitch that would decide the match—and their rivalry.

Being so centered on the competition, neither of them noticed the Bludger heading straight for them. It wasn't until it nearly hit him in the head that Scorpius _did _see it, and promptly swerved, dipping down and coming back up in the space of a second. A second was just enough, however, for the Bludger to collide with Rose's ribcage, and send her flying off her broom.

Time seemed to stall as Scorpius took in the situation. Rose was injured, and falling toward the ground at an alarming rate. Her broom had sailed out of the pitch, its whereabouts currently unknown. Logically, he knew that someone in the stands, probably McGonagall, would undoubtedly see her descent and perform a cushioning charm or something to soften her fall. She was in no real danger.

However, this logical, reasonable side of him was entirely subconscious, and for the moment, completely ignored. The only coherent thought in his mind as he watched her get closer and closer to the hard, deadly ground more than a hundred feet below him, which he spoke aloud, was, "_No!_"

In an instant, he was flying faster than he'd ever believed he could, his eyes trained on the red hair and robes plummeting through the air. Preparing himself, he took a breath, before deftly reaching out one arm and looping it around Rose's waist, while clutching the end of his broom with the other hand.

The next five seconds would change his life.

One: he was still surrounded by the deafening cheers of the crowd, and the thrill of the match taking place. Also, he became engulfed with the dizzying relief of knowing _he had saved her!_

Two: A few screams from the stands, and some barely intelligible shouts from Wood.

Three: Sudden silence, as everything came to a crashing halt.

Four: The realization of just what he'd done. He'd abandoned his pursuit of the Snitch, for the sole reason of saving the life of his _rival_.

Five: Rose let out a shriek of pain, before passing out.

The word that kept repeating over and over in his mind: _Shit_.

* * *

An hour later, Scorpius sat in the Slytherin common room, while his teammates gave him an earful. He let each one of them have a go, allowing them to verbally assault him and get their anger out of their systems. Once they were finished, he excused himself, leaving the dungeons with only one destination in mind: the hospital wing. He wasn't sure why he had the sudden need to see her, but his feet seemed to have taken a life of their own, guiding him along the corridors, driven by his sudden and inexplicable need just to _see_ her.

When he arrived, Madam Pomfrey (good Lord, that woman was old) was bustling about in her usual manner, carrying potions from sick bed to sick bed, muttering under her breath about the "stupid, dangerous sport."

Scorpius cleared his throat, effectively stopping her mid-rant. "Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, what is it?" she asked impatiently.

"I... I was just wondering... how Rose is doing."

"She'd be better if she weren't so insistent on playing the silliest sport known to man, but heaven forbid any one of you students have a brain in your head!"

He might have laughed, or smirked, if not for the current situation. However, as it was, he merely shuffled his feet, before voicing his request. "May I see her?"

After a lengthy hesitation, the older witch let out a sigh. "Oh, very well. Come in, I'll show you. But be quick!"

Scorpius followed her to the last bed, around which the curtain had been closed. He paused for a moment, almost afraid of what he might see. But as he stepped around it, he realized his fears were unfounded. Rose looked quite healthy, if a little bruised and somewhat pale. She took a sip from the potion Madam Pomfrey offered her, grimacing at the taste. Then her eyes met his, and there they stayed.

"Er... hi," he muttered.

Rose's eyebrow lifted. "Hello," she drawled, almost questioningly.

"So... erm... how are you?"

"Swell," she deadpanned.

He sighed. "Sorry, stupid question."

"Why are you here?"

"I just... well, I..." he stammered, unable to form a sentence in his mind, let alone in his mouth.

Rose groaned in obvious frustration. "Malfoy, you really need someone to teach you how to gloat. This whole flustered thing just isn't working for you."

Something snapped inside of him. "I beg your pardon?"

The faintest of smirks appeared on her face. "You heard me. Now, either come up with a more efficient method of boasting, or leave me alone so I can sleep." And she plopped back onto the bed, closing her eyes as if to end the conversation.

He stared at her, torn between indignation and disgust, though he was unsure to whom these reactions were intended, Rose or himself. Did she really think so little of him? What kind of impression had he left on her?

"I'm not here to gloat," he said calmly, evenly. "I came to see if you were all right."

Her eyes flew open and met his again. "What?"

Scorpius shrugged. "I came to see if you were all right," he repeated.

She frowned. "Why?"

It then became clear to him that she was completely ignorant of his savior act, and he chose to keep that information to himself. Quickly changing the subject, he asked her, "So you're all right, then? No major injuries?"

"Answer my question, Malfoy."

He ignored her, instead picking up the now-empty bottle, from which she had taken a potion to help her with... whatever. "What was this for?"

"Why should I tell _you?_"

There was no way to deny it; that stung. The way she said it caused an invisible knife to prod his heart and slice at his stomach. Wounded far more than he'd ever care to admit, Scorpius scowled at her. "Fine, _don't_ tell me. See if I ever check up on you again. Have a nice night, Rose," he muttered bitterly, then stalked out.

It wasn't until later that evening, at dinner, that he realized he'd called her Rose.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's kind of short, but I had to stop it here. Too many ideas running into each other, but not necessarily connecting, and creating a colossal headache. So I cut it here. I'm hoping to finish the next chapter soon, and add to some of my other stories. In the meantime, please make my day by leaving a review! :D


End file.
